Sydney Poetry
A social site for poets in Sydney.
Life Knife
Now,
A time for peace,
A time for death.
Time for a piece of death.
The best kind.
We fucked away the flesh,
that lusty hot pink writhing.
Now only skeleton left.
Skeletal friendship,
slowly faded though.
Allowing the bones of our being,
Bones on which to build our being.
Cosmic flesh and life force eternal.
Deep Breath.
After all I hold the knife,
It does not hold me.
I do not hide it,
it does not hide from me.
To cut away a time from peace,
Make free a time for life.
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